


Day trip

by harin91



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Disney References, Disney Songs, Fluff, Germany, Human AU, M/M, Romance, Summer Vacation, some useless facts about Ludwig II of Bavaria
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-25
Updated: 2016-04-25
Packaged: 2018-06-04 10:46:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6654910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harin91/pseuds/harin91
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alfred meets Arthur in Germany, on their way to visit Ludwig II's Neuschwanstein castle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Day trip

**Author's Note:**

> This was meant to be pubblished on England's birthday (23rd of April), but it took me two more days to finish.
> 
> First of all, thanks to my improvised beta-reader Lady of Lorien for reading this, even though she's not even into the Hetalia fandom XD
> 
> English is not my first language. I'm sorry for any mistake you may find.  
> Comments are very appreciated: if there's anything you want to know that I didn't add in the notes, feel free to ask :D  
> You can find me on Tumblr! I'm brightly-painted-canvas. Please come over and let's have a chat :D *offers biscuits and tea*
> 
> More notes at the end of the fic.

Alfred jumped on the train at the very last moment and, exactly when he found a seat, the doors closed and the vehicle started to move.  
“Just in time!” he sighed content under his breath and caught the attention of a guy about his own age, sat directly in front of him. He didn't comment, just studied Alfred for a brief and intense instant before looking outside the window at the station they were leaving behind: Munich.  
Alfred shrugged, then got up to stash his overflowing backpack inside the luggage rack, finding a spot just near another similar, green one. He sat back down and looked curiously at the other traveller, the only other occupant of their row of seats.  
The guy was so obviously not German, despite the blond hair and clear eyes (green. A perfect shade of light green). He was smaller than Alfred, lean (more slim than skinny) and was so clearly a tourist, from his khaki shorts to his hiking boots. A quick glance toward the small table between them under the window and Alfred found a big guide book placed neatly on it, with 'Germany' written in capitals.  
The guy was still insistently looking outside, despite Alfred's persistent and very obvious stare.  
“Were from, dude?” asked the American suddenly and for a long moment he felt sure the guy was quickly thinking how to react: ignore, fake smile, annoyed glare?  
He got an annoyed glare in the end and was graced with a quick reply: “Brighton, England.”  
Then the guy sneered a bit and got back to his activity of looking outside the window.  
Alfred found disturbing him extremely entertaining.  
“So you talk all fancy, uh?” he said and laughed his characteristic loud laugh. The guy only sneered further, eyes not leaving the glass.  
“I do not talk 'fancy', I talk properly. Proper English, a concept that may be too difficult to understand for you uneducated Yankee.” he accused in his (honestly) fancy accent and flashing his angry green eyes toward Alfred's amused ocean blues behind his spectacles.  
“We do talk proper English! Just a bit changed to make it sound more awesome!” he retorted happily.  
The guy just lifted one of his big and bushy eyebrows in disapproval and muttered: “It's called 'English' for a reason...” almost to himself.  
Alfred decided to let the conversation to rest, partially: “So, since my accent gave me away so easily, I'll tell you were I am from! Bet you can't guess that too, right?”.  
The Brit said “Not interested.” very quickly, but the American completely ignored him: “I'm from Austin, Texas, United States of America and my name is Alfred F. Jones!” he declared: “And you are...?” he prompted.  
“Arthur Kirkland.” replied the other with a sigh.  
“Nice to meet ya, Artie!” exclaimed Alfred.  
“It's 'Arthur' and 'you' and I am not very inclined to say likewise,” said in a reprimanding tone the Brit.  
“Aw, c'mon! Got something against us Murricans?” asked Alfred.  
“Only boisterous and annoying ones.” replied Arthur.  
“Promise I won't bother you anymore...” said then Alfred, suddenly serious.  
“Thank you.” said Arthur, taken aback.  
“But only if you tell me why you're here and where you're going.” added the American, grinning again.  
Arthur sighed once again, then he looked straight into the other's eyes: at first very serious and thoughtful, then replying to Alfred's encouraging big smile with a slight turn upward of his own lips, like a smirk.  
“I'm going to visit Ludwig II's castles. And I'm currently on a trip around Europe.” said the Brit, more relaxed and letting down his guard just a bit.  
“Me too!” exclaimed Alfred: “To both! Like, I really wanted to see these castles I've seen countless times on Tumblr posts, you know? And I've got all summer to travel all over here and see stuff, so why not? Then I'll be back in the US to start college. It's a graduation present from my granpa, he's the best. My twin brother should've come with me, but he met a chick in April and decided to stay home, so, yeah...” the American's words flow hit Arthur suddenly, leaving him completely speechless. Then Alfred concluded his explanation: “I'm travelling all alone. What about you?”  
Arthur blinked a few times, then replied: “I'm travelling alone as well, but not completely as a vacation... I am researching for my thesis.”  
“So you're older than me. How much?” asked Alfred, curious.  
“Twenty-three.” said Arthur.  
“Dude, you're over twenty? LOL!” laughed the American, actually pronouncing 'LOL': “I'm eighteen. Well, nineteen in two weeks, on the 4th of July...”  
“Oh,” said Arthur, then scoffed: “What's wrong with being twenty-three, though? I'm only four years older than you are!” making the American laugh again at the sudden return of his cute scowl. The guy's angry expressions and uptight attitude was absolutely freaking hilarious.  
“Nothin', just... you're old-old.” he emphasised, but quickly added before the other could get even more enraged: “You don't look like it, though. So you're fine. What's your major?” he asked.  
“History. European history,” said more calmly the Brit: “I want to focus my research on historical parallelisms between the most interesting royal figures of Europe.” he explained.  
“Oh, it doesn't seem simple... did you already chose who to compare?” asked the American, suddenly more serious.  
“I was thinking Ludwig II could be one, then Lorenzo de' Medici for Italy and I guess Philip V for Spain. But I'm still uncertain...” replied Arthur.  
“So... only very enlightened monarchs?” asked cautiously the American. He wasn't the most diligent scholar and he definitely preferred scientific subjects over history and geography, but living all his life with his brain of a twin brother Matthew had made him incredibly excellent at guessing stuff, knowing random useless facts and an absolute winner at Trivial Pursuit.  
“Yes, that should be the central idea... but some of the kings I've chosen had controversial lives, so I'm still not sure if I should choose them, although I find them very fascinating. Ludwig, for example... he was considered insane.” he explained.  
Alfred looked intently at the other's reactions while engrossed in his speech, on subjects that definitely excited him judging by the sparkle in his eyes, the gesticulation and the serene expression.  
Arthur stopped and blushed sightly, realising the other was looking straight at him, almost enchanted. Alfred recoiled and said: “Cool.”  
“It is a fascinating subject.” agreed Arthur, still pink on the cheeks and tip of his ears that Alfred found out were also dusted with tiny freckles.  
“What about the English king you chose?” asked Alfred, anything to make the cutest Brit he's ever met keep talking: “Who is it? King Arthur?” he hazarded.  
“Oh, no...” said Arthur with a shy smile: “I think I'd like starting with Alfred the Great. I've read and studied so much about him and I really... feel a connection with the work I'm doing. He's an enchanting figure.” he mumbled, suddenly embarrassed by his own reactions.  
“You got a big fat crush on the guy, uh?” noted Alfred, with a wiggle of his eyebrow which made Arthur sputter: “I can tell. He must've been the coolest dude. Since, you know...” he winked again: “I got my name from him.” then added: “And I'm the coolest dude.”  
“I'm so sure,” retorted Arthur with a scoff.

The train proceeded through forests and fields green and luxuriant, immersed in the heat of summer sun shining from above.  
They kept on chatting, Alfred always finding ways of wringing words out of Arthur and stimulating the cutest reaction out of the Englishman and Arthur somehow getting more and more accustomed to the American's presence.  
Alfred told him how he was glad for the long summer distraction around Europe, since once back home he had to make big decisions about which university choose and, more importantly, which major. He had always dreamt of becoming an astronaut, so Aerospace Engineering or Mathematics or Physics. But Chemistry and also Biology had always attracted him, so choosing wasn't that simple. Especially since almost every application he had sent during his last year of high school had apparently been accepted.  
“You definitely don't have the physique du rôle of such a brilliant student,” had commented Arthur, pleasantly surprised.  
“Because I look like a football jock?” asked Alfred, grinning: “I am that too! Quarterback, obviously. I won a scholarship last year...” he added.  
Arthur managed not to stare with wide eyes at the seemingly young prodigy in front of him and just scoffed at the annoying particular: “It's 'American football'. Real football is something else.”  
“Right...” said Alfred, absent-mindedly, then kicked back: “Oh, you mean 'soccer'?”.

Alfred had only one twin brother who seemed to be simultaneously always with him and never home, being it because he dated many girls in the past two years and used to live with their father in Vancouver when younger.  
“Sometimes it feels like we're still living far away from each other, some other time he sticks to me like a shadow. He's also usually not immediately noticed, so he's freakingly good at scaring me. Oh, and he gets confused with me all the time, even though I'm far more funny, popular and hot.” explained Alfred.  
“Not to mention humble,” commented Arthur, strangely feeling pity for the poor Matthew even without having met the lad.  
The Kirklands were, instead, a numerous family. Arthur had three older brothers, an older sister and a younger brother called Peter who was always addressed with epithets such as 'runt', 'dwarf', 'brat' and 'insufferable twat'. The others weren't spared from a similar treatment, but they were all out of the nest and living in different parts of the UK, so they caused much less troubles now than they did in the past.  
Past which saw Arthur pass through a 'delinquent and punk' phase, apparently.  
“No. Freakin'. WAY!” exclaimed Alfred: “You???” he added, pointing to the Brit.  
“I don't really know why I'm telling you all of this...” sighed Arthur.

Once, during a car trip in North America, Alfred, Matthew and their father saw a big bear and almost crashed into it. The bear got up on its two rear paws and just stood in the middle of the road, observing their car. Then, before they had the chance to move the car away (backward, it has to be), the animal looked away from them and slowly walked back into the forest at the side of the road.  
Other similar tales were exchanged between the two, but this particular one struck Arthur's interest for how accurately it had been narrated by the American.  
Arthur had always seen mostly cities in his life and travels, so he had never had encounters with big, wild animals. He told Alfred that the only time he saw something in the woods, was when he was visiting his relatives in the countryside of Wales and had met two foxes. There was no need to add that he and his brothers had also thought to have seen a unicorn among the trees, though... especially because they had all been laughed of for ages by their entire family, after having told them.  
They soon changed topic and kept on talking and talking until the train stopped at Füssen, their destination.

From there, Arthur realised that it was almost impossible to lose the American: they had to board the same coach to the castles, then queue together to get tickets and eventually join a guided tour inside the Hohenschwangau castle which had to be in English for both of them and they ended being in the same group.  
By noon they were still wandering through the small village together, stopping for lunch by the bank of the Alpsee lake and still, incredibly, finding funny or interesting topic to talk about.  
Soon, the Brit completely forgot why he wanted to distance himself from the American and easily enjoyed the other's company.  
The summer heat increased during the first hours of the afternoon and they stopped for a break under the cool shadows of a tall pine before deciding to climb the side of the mountain to reach the Neuschwanstein castle.  
The lake looked perfectly still, clear and beautiful under the blue sky and immediately Arthur said: “You know, it's suitable for swimming.” without thinking about it.  
Alfred immediately sat up straight against the pine's trunk and shot him a surprised, then excited look: “Let's go swimming.”  
“No.” replied immediately Arthur, terrified by what reaction his random comment had caused.  
“C'mooon, Artie!” whined the other, already up on his feet and ready to run into the water.  
“No, Alfred, I don't want to. I don't have a change of clothes or a swimming costume, anyway. And you can't exactly swim in here, you have to go search for the swimming area.” he reasoned, trying to maintain his calm.  
“There's no one around here, nobody's going to complain. And we don't need a spare change! The sun is so hot we'll dry in one minute!” added the American, still completely convinced by the idea.  
Arthur sighed: “Still no, Alfred. You can go, though... I don't want to spoil your fun.”  
“It's no fun at all if you're not coming!” protested the other, making Arthur recoil slightly.

In the end, he agreed to accompany Alfred to the shore and sat down near the trees while the other cautiously walked into the lake fully dressed, leaving on his bag only his glasses and hoodie.  
“There's a load of junks on the bottom, it's difficult to go in.” he said at some point.  
“Then come back,” said Arthur, watching intently, his legs folded up against his torso and arms resting over his knees.  
“Nah, I can do this. Man, it's cold!” replied Alfred, proceeding through the water.  
Arthur watched as the other braved a jump inside the water and swam away for two or three armfuls, reaching a deeper point: “It's freezing!” he cried out to make sure Arthur heard him.  
“Then come back!” replied again the Brit.  
“No! You come in!” said Alfred, grinning madly. He splashed some water in the other's direction, just to underline his stance.  
Arthur grumbled but didn't move.  
After a few more minutes it was obvious that Alfred was getting bored by the situation, so he swam back to the bank and clumsily wobbled out of the water to stand beside Arthur.  
“C'mon.” he said, pointing toward the lake.  
“What am I, a dog?” asked Arthur.  
“Obviously not, since you're too afraid to get into the water. I guess you're a cat, then!” grinned the American, dripping all over the other, who shove him away slightly.  
“Very funny. Go away,” said Arthur: “Get under the sun to dry!”  
Alfred blocked the other's arm movement and strongly pulled, succeeding in lifting the other up to his feet.  
“What are you doing!?” sputtered the Brit, but Alfred didn't reply. He just hugged the other very tightly, wetting all his clothes: “Alfred!” cried the Englishman, outraged and embarrassed.  
“Come swimming with me,” said the other with a sly smile, forcing the other to withdraw toward the lake, one step at time: “Swim with me...”  
Arthur felt his boots reach the water with a splash and jumped, trying without success to escape the other's grip around him: “Idiot, let me go!”  
Alfred looked him in the eyes and, with an incredibly serious expression he murmured: “Arthur.” His eyes shone bright in the sun and his expression was serene, relaxed, watching Arthur with such a fondness that took the other's breath away for an instant.  
An instant of vulnerability that betrayed him long enough for the American to pull him slightly up and toss him into the water, completely clothed.  
“I hate you, you wanker!” were the first words yelled from Arthur as soon as he emerged from the freezing water of the lake. Alfred was laughing so loud he almost didn't hear the stream of profanities that followed.  
“It was too easy! Dude, you weight nothing, how is it possible?” asked Alfred.  
“Not everyone eat as much as you do,” replied Arthur nonchalantly, swimming tentatively to his left, away from the other, who sputtered: “Are you... saying I'm fat?” he roared.  
Arthur just smirked and showed him the two fingers. Alfred splashed him despite the distance: “I'm gonna catch you and make you pay for this!” exclaimed the American, diving into the water to chase the faster Englishman.

They stayed in the water for ten more minutes, then returned to the bank and sat under the sun to dry their now heavy and drenched clothes.  
Alfred pulled off his t-shirt, asserting it was going to dry quicker if he left it hung on a tree branch, then asked Arthur if it was okay if he did the same thing with his shorts, basically keeping on only his underwear.  
The Brit blushed furiously, protested and argued, but they both ended up hanging their wet clothes on branches and logs and sitting down under the sun in their boxers.  
“Who's fat now, uh?” winked at him Alfred as he caught Arthur's eyes wandering over his tanned skin, broad shoulders, muscular body and very nice bottom.  
“Still fatter than me...” mumbled the Brit, who's appearance under the light summer clothes was still appealing to Alfred: Arthur had small freckles all over his pale body, a slim waist, a round ass and incredibly long legs.  
Alfred whistled when Arthur bend down to pick up his backpack and in return got a hard smack on his head.  
They sat down quietly and enjoyed the sun, Arthur reading his guide book with interest and Alfred listening to the sound of the nature around them. The American was lying down on his back, with his eyes closed, ready to fall asleep for a quick nap if it wasn't for Arthur's voice calling him back from slumber every now and then, to read him passages of the book he found useful.  
“This is a strange day trip, anyway...” he mumbled absent-mindedly at some point. He heard Arthur shift and looked back at the Englishman, noticing he had stopped reading and was gazing at the lake.  
“I wasn't expecting the bath,” agreed the Brit.  
“I wasn't expecting you.” said earnestly Alfred with a small smile. Their eyes met and after an instant they both had to look away, blushing madly.  
“Sorry, that came out... ehm...”  
“Don't worry, I... I...”  
Words suddenly failed the both of them.  
Silence fell and it somehow helped moving on for the strange, awkward atmosphere they had created. But then, Alfred suddenly asked: “Are you single?” and Arthur spluttered once again.  
“Why!?” asked the older as soon as he regained a bit of composure.  
“I don't know, like... conversationally.” shrugged the American, betrayed by his still present blushing.  
“Oh, I'm so sure...” said Arthur, covering his own blush behind his hands.  
“Well?” insisted Alfred, this time with a small laugh: “Because, you know... conversationally. I am.” he added, looking away and feigning interest in a pair of ants walking along the log Arthur was sat on.  
“Me too.” came the small voice of the Brit from behind his hands.  
“Okay. Well, nothing wrong about it,” laughed off Alfred, not knowing how to re-emerge from the awkward situation: “We'll find someone, eventually.”  
Arthur made a low, pained sound and kept his face covered for a pair of minutes more.  
Alfred started reading the guide book to ignore the silence.  
“Is it weird asking because we're half-naked?”  
“Oh my God, Alfred! Shut up!”.

At around four they got dressed in their almost dry clothes and climbed up to the second castle.  
“My shirt is definitely okay, but my shoes still 'squick and squack',” said Alfred, stomping on the ground to draw the sound of squished water out of his shoes.  
“At least you don't wear boots. Mine are never going to dry off,” said Arthur with a sigh.  
They kept on walking on their wet shoes.  
Alfred pulled out from his backpack the reflex camera he had used all morning and snapped random photos at the forest around them and the green, vast valley below the mountain when they were high enough to see it.  
Behind the woods there were small villages and fields so perfectly squared and positioned they almost looked painted.  
Arthur was so busy looking around and regain his breath after half the climb that he reacted too late at Alfred snapping a picture of his profile.  
“Delete it.” he said, trying to snatch the camera from the other's hands.  
Alfred retreated enough to avoid the attack and look at the screen to appreciate the picture with a sly smile: “Aw, no. You're cute.”  
“I'm not 'cute'!” protested Arthur, indignant.  
“Also, you can't see your monster eyebrows well in this, so it's a safe one.” added Alfred.  
Arthur smacked him on the head again and again.  
From a panoramic point on the Marienbrücke, they snapped a few pictures of the castle behind them. It's white walls and many towers glimmered in the sunshine, the nicest contrast with the dark blue roofs, the azure of the lake and the immense green of the hills and fields around it.  
Arthur used his phone to take the pictures and this time Alfred used his as well, to take a few selfies.  
“Smile,” he instructed suddenly, circling Arthur's waist to pull him closer to fit into the picture.  
They ended so close they were almost hugging, Arthur's hand on the other chest as a reaction for the sudden movement and his hair brushing the taller American's cheek.  
“What about this one? You're not going to complain?” asked Alfred when Arthur didn't try to have it deleted. The Englishman looked at the phone's screen and shrugged: “That's fine, as long as you don't upload it on Facebook.”  
“Instagram?” asked Alfred, smiling.  
Arthur ignored him in order to find their path to the entrance of the castle.  
“I've read that Walt Disney took inspiration from it for Cinderella, Snow White and Sleeping Beauty's castles.” said Alfred, looking down at the screen of his phone.  
“Tumblr again?” asked Arthur, skeptical.  
“Wikipedia.” replied Alfred, showing the internet page.

The Neuschwanstein castle required once again a guided tour, but this time there were more people in their group. The Castle was big but not all the rooms were open and some parts of it were never finished in the first place, since Ludwig II died before the end of the works.  
The interiors were sumptuous and elegant, but not ostentatious and rich as many other European mansions; it maintained a dignity and sobriety that was typically German.  
The colours were spectacularly well mixed, vivid and alive on the carpets, walls and fabrics. Each room had his main theme and colour, as well as many particularities that made them all unique.  
“Insane or not, I bet this Ludwig kid was hella gay,” said Alfred at some point: “I mean, look at how freakin' interior designer he was at heart! And that story about how attached he was to Wagner? Sounds suspicious to me...” he added, as a justification.  
Arthur looked at him with an eyebrow raised, annoyed for being disturbed while the guide was speaking: “What's wrong with being gay?” he asked though, making Alfred slightly recoil and blush: “Nothing, of course!” he exclaimed: “In fact, I'm hella gay myself...” he said, this time lowering his voice.  
Arthur blinked at him in surprise, then blushed as well: “Oh, well,” he mumbled.  
They were lead to another room and the discussion ended there.  
Alfred couldn't distract himself by taking pictures since it was prohibited inside the castle, so he bugged Arthur with Disney references he was fabricating on the spot, like 'that balcony is in Rapunzel' or 'this bedroom looks like Elsa's'.  
“Alfred, I've seen all those films. They don't look like this at all,” said Arthur at some point, scared that the American's words could be heard and believed by the other participants of the guided tour, especially children.  
Alfred ignored him and kept on with his game, but this time whispered his nonsenses into Arthur's ear instead.  
When they came to the last room, a big ballroom with chandeliers, dark wooden stairs and a large painting of a forest on the back walls, Arthur's breath itched with awe and Alfred gleamed with joy: “Well, THIS one is in 'Beauty and the Beast', is it not!” he exclaimed.  
He immediately started singing 'Tales as old as time' disregarding the guide and the rest of the group. Arthur tried to shush him, but was completely ignored and, when Alfred came to the chorus part, Arthur was swept off his feet and held against the American's chest despite his loud protests. Alfred lead him in a clumsy waltz around the room while still singing and Arthur soon realised that despite the embarrassment of being watched by a public of tourists and guides, he couldn't stop laughing, looking at the other's goofy face concentrated on his performance.  
Alfred finished singing the song and stopped dancing, bowing gracefully to his partner as a true waltz dancer would have done in the past.  
Arthur smiled to him, face completely red: “You're such an idiot.”  
The public clapped and laughed and so did Alfred, his attention returning back to the guide's explanation about the room. He rested his hand on the small of Arthur's back.  
“Nothing wrong with being gay?” he whispered, leaning down on Arthur's shoulder to be heard only by the Englishman, who couldn't stop smiling and blushing.  
“Absolutely.” he exhaled, shy but amused.

After the visit, Arthur spent a lot of time in the bookshop, looking through books about the castles, Ludwig II and Wagner. Alfred quickly bought his souvenirs (a pen for Matthew, two magnets for his mother and father and a postcard for his grandfather) and spent the rest of the time waiting for Arthur toward the exit.  
The Englishman came by only twenty minutes later and apologised for being late: “You could go,” he said: “There's really no need to wait for me...”  
“Are you going back to Füssen to take the train?” asked Alfred.  
“Yes,” replied Arthur, taken aback by the question.  
“Then we'll go together. If you don't mind,” said the younger.  
“Not at all...” said Arthur, looking almost relieved to know that they were still completing the trip together. As much as it may pain him to say it out loud, he had started to enjoy the other's company too much to have their time together ending too soon.

At six pm they were back to the bus station and about twenty minutes later, they were boarding the train back to Munich.  
The excitement of the morning had faded, leaving them less talkative, tired and content in the silence they were sharing on the way back. They found two sits in the corner and sat down, this time beside one another, in an almost empty and very silent coach.  
As much as Alfred wanted to know more about Arthur and never wanted the other to stop talking and looking at him and smiling that shy smile of him, he soon let the other get back to reading his books and fell asleep on his shoulder, accompanied with the revelation he had fallen badly for the Brit just by spending a whole day with him.  
He was woken by the gentle push of Arthur's hand on his arm: “Alfred, we're arriving.”  
He straightened his back, blinked and lifted his glasses to rub his eyes, while stretching: “Where are you staying in Munich?” he asked, noticing the train slowing down and a city outside the window, where before there were almost only trees.  
“I have an Airbnb near the station. You?” asked back Arthur, getting ready to get off the train by putting his things inside his backpack.  
“Hostel, not far way. But I'm leaving tomorrow morning.” he replied.  
“Where to?” asked the Brit, suddenly more anxious.  
“Italy. I'm headed to Venice first,” said quickly the American: “Then Verona, Milan, Florence... you got the idea.” he smiled.  
Arthur paused, looking down at his feet as reflecting on something.  
“Are you... is Italy in your plans?” asked Alfred, hopeful.  
“I have to go there as well, yes, sooner or later.” replied Arthur, in a small, still unsure voice.  
They looked back at each other in silence, while the train's brakes hissed under them.  
“Would you like coming with me to Italy?” asked Alfred, holding his breath awaiting for the answer.  
“Would you like if I did?” asked back Arthur, his wide, green eyes looking straight at Alfred to read his face, understand his feelings.  
Alfred smiled earnestly as the recorded voice of the announcement called the next stop. “I want you to.” he replied.  
Arthur sighed in relief and smiled back, with the same tenderness: “I would love to.”  
Alfred whooped loudly, causing Arthur to blush suddenly and shush him.  
But the carriage was already empty, all the other few passengers still leaning next the doors in the corridors. The American looked around, then back to Arthur with a very serious and concentrated smile.  
“Can I kiss you?” he asked.  
Arthur's eyed widened in surprise and his blush darkened even more but he managed to keep his calm and nodded twice, not trusting his voice for a reply.  
Alfred smiled and leaned in, closing his eyes and kissing the other's lips.  
It was chaste at first, but he soon found out Arthur didn't really like chaste: the kiss deepened in an instant, as the arms of the Brit circled his neck and his hands carded through his hair, keeping him closer. Alfred's hands rested on Arthur's hips, steadying the other on the two seats they were occupying while the train came to a stop.  
“Took you long enough,” commented with a small grin Arthur as they parted, still leaning close to one another. The doors of the train opened slowly and the passengers started to descend to the platform. They had to leave, but Alfred pretty much preferred keeping on snogging Arthur on an empty train than getting back to his eight bed mixed dorm in the hostel, Arthur-less.  
“Why did I ever wait this long, uh?” asked Alfred with a laugh: “A whole day?”.  
“Oh, shush.” silenced him Arthur, kissing him quickly before standing up and heading toward the exit: “You sang a Disney song.” he mocked.  
“Can sing some more right now,” said Alfred, grinning.  
They were on the platform, backpacks on, heading toward the station's main entrance.  
“Keep it. You may need them in Italy.” warned him Arthur.  
“Do I have to woo you some more in Italy?” asked Alfred, amused: “I can do that.”  
“I'm so sure.” said Arthur, but he still laughed.  
Alfred kissed him on the cheek and squeezed his hand before letting go and say: “See you tomorrow, then.”  
“See you tomorrow.” replied Arthur, finally smiling the best smile Alfred had ever seen.  
He turned around and head toward his exit, thinking about how ecstatic he was.  
God bless the whole day, bless destiny. Bless Arthur for being the best thing that ever happened to him. What an adventure! How lucky he was!  
“Alfred! Wait!” called him Arthur.  
A voice he was never going to get tired of, he thought, turning around: “What?”  
“You didn't give me your number, you idiot.” said Arthur, completely unimpressed.  
Oh, right.

 

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More Notes:

I took inspiration for this fic from a real experience I had when I went to visit Neuschwanstein castle three years ago: on the train, me and my friends were sat near two couples of tourist, one from England and the other from the United States. They had met on the train, sat in front of each other and started chatting.  
Being a curious little fucker I've listened to almost all their conversations and fangirled a bit, since they were adorably perfect: the English elder couple had been married since forever, they were very composed and polite but stood out with their funny sassy comments. They held hands for the whole ride. The Americans weren't married and both had previous marriages, they were way more blatantly in love and very touchy-feely and recounted the best kind of stories about adventures they had (the bear story is all theirs. I've stolen it and I'm not sure if I'm sorry about it XD). They laughed very loudly and were incredibly jovial and kind with everyone (they offered sweets to the whole coach, me and my friends included XD).  
I HAD to write something about this encounter. It took me some time to do it, but now that I did I'm happy at how it came to be.

Some of the other things that Arthur and Alfred did and said during this fic, come from what me and my friends did and said during our trip.

The things I wrote about Ludwig II and the Bavarian castles are written on my guide book or were explained during the guided tour. I'm sorry for any mistake or inaccuracies.  
The references to other enlightened kings of the past come from my own knowledge and historic nerdiness. I hope I didn't make mistakes on these as well.

Please never go swimming in a lake outside of the designed area, Alfred did because he's an idiot :D

This was mostly meant to be a one-shot, but since these two decided to 'write themselves' at some point and said they're headed to Italy next, maybe a sequel is needed? I don't know yet. You decide :D

Thank you for reading!


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